


Curiosity & Courage

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (no images - description only), Collar, Collars, F/F, Fluff, MCU Kink Bingo, MCU Kink Bingo 2018, Mild D/S undertones, Nudes, Resolved Second Hand Embarassment, Screen Reader Friendly, Second hand embarassment, Sexting, Sexual References, smutty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 09:29:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15045998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: Jemma and Bobbi have been dating for a little while, so Bobbi brings Jemma up to her apartment for coffee and Jemma finds a studded collar and gets really excited because she thinks Bobbi has a dog.(She doesn't.)





	Curiosity & Courage

**Author's Note:**

> As well as being for an Anon prompt on tumblr (see Summary), this fic fills my [@mcukinkbingo](https://mcukinkbingo.tumblr.com/) "Jemma Simmons/Bobbi Morse" square (but don't worry, there's plenty more opportunities for Simmorse, smutty and otherwise - check out my bingo squares [here](http://theclaravoyant.tumblr.com/post/174958815476/prompt-me-mcubingo-edition) and feel free to prompt me accordingly).

“That face doesn’t look like good news,” Bobbi remarked, as a fretting Jemma made her way back from the counter. 

“They said they can give us tickets to another screening, but I can’t come back tonight, I have to go to work!” Jemma lamented. “I’m sorry, I think the date is off.” 

She waved the complimentary tickets helplessly, and Bobbi tilted her head in thought. 

“You don’t have to go _right now,_ do you,” she reminded Jemma. “Why don’t you come back to my apartment for a coffee? It’s just around the corner.” 

“Are you sure?” Jemma checked, and nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I wouldn’t want to put you out.” 

In truth, she very much wanted to visit Bobbi’s apartment, but it was a big step for a third date. Very private, very personal, and Jemma knew that she was far too curious for her own good and well-known for not being all that tactful. Visiting Bobbi’s apartment was an invitation to stick her foot in her mouth and she wasn’t sure that she – or Bobbi - was ready for that yet. 

But Bobbi shook her head, brushing off Jemma’s concern. “There’s nothing to put out,” she promised. “My roommate is out, the place isn’t too much of a pigsty, and it’s literally right around the corner, I swear. Come on! I won’t try anything funny, I promise. Just coffee. Or tea, I have tea as well. Just coffee’s just an expression.” 

“I thought you said you wouldn’t try anything funny,” Jemma replied, with a hesitant smile, and Bobbi grinned. 

“You have a terrible sense of humour,” she noted. “I like that in a girl.” 

Jemma rolled her eyes and laughed, and let Bobbi lead her around the corner to where her apartment was indeed waiting. For most of the way there, Bobbi was touching her hand or her arm or her back, making Jemma feel welcome in her space, and by the time they’d made it up the elevator and down the hall, Jemma was starting to think that she might not actually mind a little funny business after all. But of course she still had the curiosity problem to attend to: she had, after all, been told by no fewer than three of her exes, that her most annoying trait was how she got nosy, and often, judgemental. She was really enjoying her time with Bobbi, and she’d hate to drag her over those coals, especially when fate had had them approach the invitation-into-my-home hurdle sooner than they otherwise would have. But if Bobbi was prepared to be brave, then so was she – which was good, because the test before her was about to be scaled up in difficulty. Between the nerves, the need, and the sound of Bobbi filling up the kettle, it wasn’t long before Jemma had to ask: 

“Bobbi, sorry, but do you mind if I use your bathroom?” 

“Sure,” Bobbi shrugged. “It’s straight down the hall. Bathroom’s on your left. Not your right, that’s Hunter’s room and I take no responsibility for what you find in there.” 

She chuckled to herself, and Jemma smiled, even as she reminded herself to steel her anti-curiosity binders. There were not many doors in an apartment like this: only five in the hall. There was the lavatory of course, the bathroom and Hunter’s room, and the other two must be Bobbi’s, and what she imagined must be some kind of linen closet or the like. Bobbi’s door was closed. Hunter’s was a little open, but between Bobbi’s warning and her own determination, Jemma resisted the urge to pry. She even managed to do her business without searching through their magazines, though she did eye a sudoko at the top of the stack, which she thought was interesting. It wasn’t until she got to the bathroom that she found herself in real trouble, and even then it wasn’t really her fault. 

It was _right there._

On top of a large, beautiful, velveteen box on the sink. A sleek black leather collar, a little worn, with silver studs around the outside. Jemma couldn’t help but pick it up, admiring it in wonder as her face lit up. 

“Bobbi!” she cried in delight. “You never told me you had a dog!” 

_“A what?”_

Bobbi’s voice came in, a little muffled, from the other room, but Jemma did not register its confusion. She was already distracted by the opportunity of the box. What could be in there? Pictures of the dog? What kind was it, she wondered – for some reason, she could see Bobbi with a Border Collie, or perhaps a Retriever. Then again, people didn’t tend to keep printouts of photographs these days, unless the dog was dead, but she certainly hoped not. She was not emotionally ready for that. She was more emotionally ready for… toys, dog toys. That would be perfect. She could figure out the dog’s favourite and bond with it and everything would be great. 

Except then she lifted the lid, and her mind flipped back through the road it had sprinted down in the last few precious seconds. What kind of dog indeed? Well, she would have been able to at least hazard a guess had there been any fur on the collar, but it hadn’t clicked until too late that there hadn’t been. Just as it had not clicked for Bobbi immediately, why Jemma would have assumed she had a dog. And now Bobbi ran to the bathroom and Jemma stared into the box of what were indeed toys, but which were very much not of the canine persuasion, and profoundly wished that her body would obey her and just put the damn lid back already. 

Bobbi stood in the doorway in despair, and Jemma stared at her helplessly as she tried to put a brave face on. 

“Yeah, I don’t-“ Bobbi explained. “I don’t have a dog.” 

\-- 

Needless to say, the date ended quickly after that. Neither of them could quite bring themselves to look each other in the eyes, least not do anything remotely sexual in the slightest – which seemed to be everything all of a sudden; even pursing their lips to blow on their hot drinks, or shifting their seating positions. They hurried to assure each other of their own well meaning as Jemma all but ran for the door and Bobbi tried not to herd her out of it, both of them blushing furiously and apologising profusely and wishing that the other person would simply see through it and stay. 

But it was not the end. 

Jemma was up late that night for work – no that she’d gotten much done, with this on her mind. She’d blown things with Bobbi, she was sure of it. And not only had she done so by invading something way too private for comfort, but she’d made a complete fool of herself by running away like a naïve prude who’d not only never seen a vibrator before, but apparently, felt quite sick at the very thought of one. Now Bobbi probably felt like Jemma was judging her to boot, running home to tell all her friends, _and then guess what I found-??_ But of course, Jemma was far too embarrassed by the fact that she’d thought a very obvious human sex collar was for a dog. The only way it could have been worse was if it’d had a heart-shaped lock inscribed with the word _Princess._ She pulled a face at herself as she tumbled through the door with her belongings. It was a Monday night, but it was late enough for wine, right?

Just as she took her first sip though, her phone buzzed, and because today couldn’t possibly get any worse she flicked it open. The message was from Bobbi. Jemma’s breath caught in her chest as she read.

 _I’m so SO sorry about today,_ she had written, and put a cringing emoji at the end. _If it helps I practically murdered Hunter when he got home. He said he ~must have borrowed something and left it out~. Dude never buys his own condoms I s2g. Anyway. Sorry again. That must have been super weird for you, I swear I wasn’t trying to lure you into my Sex Den, I just wanted coffee. Or tea. I totally understand if you don’t want to see me again or even message me back but like…_

A smile ticked up Jemma’s lip at the three little prayer hands emojis Bobbi had finished with. The weight of complete and utter humiliation lessened slightly as she realised Bobbi was feeling just as awful as she was. At least Bobbi had been brave enough to do something about it, and not hide out in her kitchen drinking cheap wine. The least she could do, Jemma thought, was to make Bobbi feel better. Even going to the effort calmed her nerves, and warmed her heart. 

 _It’s okay,_ she wrote. _Not a deal breaker, just wasn’t expecting it on the third date! That’s what I get for sticking my nose in other people’s business though. [Shy monkey emoji]._

Now that just looked downright coy and sexual, Jemma thought. Or did it? Did it look too naïve? Should she send some eggplants? No, she’d never use them right. Oh god. Was she sexting? Should she be? She shut her phone off quickly and took a deep breath. A few seconds later, another message buzzed through. 

_You were hardly sticking your nose anywhere. There was a mysterious box on the bathroom sink, what else were you supposed to do? Not open it? [shrug hands]_

Jemma snorted. A woman after her own heart.

 _You have a ridiculously underdeveloped sense of social boundaries,_ she wrote. _I like that in a girl [wink emoji]_

 _Figured we were way past TMI,_ Bobbi replied, with a wink emoji of her own. _I’ve gotta go, but thanks for answering. & Since you haven’t run for the hills screaming, how bout a real coffee date? – p.s. what would you consider an appropriate number of dates for revealing this kind of thing? Usually?_

 _Yes! and 6. If you don’t know what you’re doing by then, you’re wasting your time._

Jemma snorted to herself, proud of this little tease. It didn’t state the obvious, but at the same time, it showed that she’d thought about it, and no girl who didn’t have a kinky side would’ve had to do that. _Nailed it._

She was so satisfied with herself, in fact, that she didn’t even worry when Bobbi did not reply. She knew she had work early in the morning, and likely had just gone to bed. Or gone to strangle her roommate some more. Jemma knew she should be getting to bed too, and she took her wine to her room, but she couldn’t quite send herself to sleep. She was still wired from work, she told herself, and from the major embarrassment earlier in the day. And besides, it’s not that she was _worried_ Bobbi wasn’t replying, but it still couldn’t hurt to be awake when she did, right? To think this little mishap had almost broken them apart, and all over a little confusion about a collar…

It may have been late, but the Internet rabbit-hole was deep, and waiting for Bobbi to reply was a subtle but powerful stimulant. It wasn’t long before Jemma found herself looking up pictures of collars, and the rather attractive women wearing them. They were just pictures, she told herself at first. She wasn’t going to try anything funny. But then she got it in her head that Bobbi had been exposed tonight. That, if she’d panicked anywhere nearly as much as Jemma had, Jemma’s subtle tease was not going to be enough to reassure her, if she even noticed it. And so it was that Jemma inspired herself to try something she’d never done before. The way she saw it, she had a lot of sexual forwardness to make up for in order to even the playing field, and in this case she found herself looking forward to doing so. She fell asleep with a smile on her face, dreaming of what she’d planned for the morning. 

\--

Bobbi woke up to her phone. _Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._ She groaned and eyed the screen.

 _You have_ 5 _messages from_ Jemma.

Bobbi cringed, and rolled over onto her back, raking a hand into her hair. Her finger hovered over the button to reveal the messages. Her heart pounded. Nervous. But they’d left it well, right? She held her breath and clicked.

Apparently, they’d left it _very_ well. 

 _P.P.S –_ Jemma had written. _Way past TMI but…_

This was followed by three images. 

The first: sitting on a white marble bench-top, [a smooth black leather collar that was fastened at the front with a simple, silver, heart-shaped padlock](https://img.etsystatic.com/il/0ea010/1073164335/il_570xN.1073164335_3s33.jpg?version=0). 

The second: a close-up of what Bobbi could only assume was Jemma’s dainty, porcelain-smooth shoulders and neck, baring the collar and blushing a little. Bobbi bit her nail and smiled to herself, feeling a tingle in her groin as she began to wonder; had Jemma ever worn one of these before? How would she carry herself in such a thing, with that dancer’s frame? 

The third gave her something of an answer, as Jemma had perched her phone on something in the bathroom and stepped back from the counter, stark naked. This shot was a little more candid, not so daintily posed – no doubt the nerves were getting to her by this point in the photo shoot – but Bobbi found herself endeared by the bashful smile on Jemma’s face, and the curve of her breast and hip. She wondered how many of these shots Jemma must have taken, in how many increasingly ridiculous poses, before she got to the point of almost laughing and to just send one straight on before she lost it. 

By this point, Bobbi was beaming. Who would have thought that such a horrific faux pas as yesterday would have earned her such a reward? 

And then there was the fifth message: another text. 

 _On an unrelated note,_ Jemma had written, _do you wanna go on three dates tonight?_


End file.
